All week, Harper pretended the library didn’t exist. She tried so hard to be her old self.

On Friday, during silent reading, Mr Kumar asked her why she was staring into space. As soon as she explained that she’d finished her book and didn’t have anything else to read, she realised her mistake: Mr Kumar gave her permission to go to the library.

‘Shouldn’t someone come with me?’ Harper said in a small voice, thinking he’d pick Augie who was sitting right next to her.

‘Yes, well done for reminding me—Corey, go with Harper to the library and let her recommend you a book, please, you’ve read enough Captain Underpants for one year.’

‘Do I have to?’ Corey said. ‘She has bad taste, Mr Kumar.’

Mr Kumar simply pointed at the door. Some of Corey’s friends made teasing noises. This was torture. Harper didn’t want Corey anywhere near her.

‘Won’t the library be locked?’ she tried, hoping Mr Kumar didn’t know about the unlocked back entrance and that he’d feel like it was all too much effort. He was a bit like that.

‘Barb was doing a lot of photocopying in there not long ago so it’s likely to be open. Off you go.’

Harper walked a little ahead of Corey. She hoped that Barb would still be there. Having an adult around would chase away any wild thoughts.

‘Why’d you have to be such a nerd?’ Corey said. ‘This is the second time I’ve had to go to the dumb library because of you.’

‘Trust me, I didn’t want you to come,’ Harper replied.

‘Yeah, right. Briar told me you used to like me.’ He sniggered. ‘I’m not interested, eff-why-eye.’

How could Briar know that? Harper had never told anyone and it was years ago. She stopped and turned, but all she could think of to say was, ‘Shut up.’

In a fury Harper pushed down on the handle of the library door. Now her energy was fixed on surviving the next few minutes in here. Barb must have left and forgotten to lock the door. Harper needed to choose a book and use the computer without looking around the room. She needed to keep her eyes narrowed on the space close to her, a safe circle.

She locked her eyes on the first row of fiction, concentrating hard on the spines, running her fingers along the books and taking long breaths to stay calm. There is no one in here, she told herself. No one but me and the boy I hate.

But her eyes were drawn up, and there at the back of the room a face flickered and disappeared.

Harper felt a needle pain in her chest. A little to her right, the face showed up again; she began to gulp at the air. Her head jerked left as the face appeared again, and then once more flickered out of view.

‘What’s your problem?’ said Corey.

Harper panicked. But some curious part of her made her walk the length of the shelves into the middle of the library, where it turned to a corner into non-fiction. There was a thick book on the floor with the title Gallipoli in the same aisle where she’d found the book Contagious.

She saw the face again, saw it and lost it over and over. She’d turned a full circle, trying to keep track of it. Now she realised something else: she could smell smoke again. That smell seemed to be part of whatever was happening.

‘Are you sick or something?’ she heard Corey say, but he didn’t matter to her now. Harper needed to see the face, to know for sure. She adjusted her glasses. Then she saw it properly. The face was a boy, older than her. His lips moved as if he was talking to her. The non-stop flickering and movement made her feel ill.

She heard her own voice: ‘Stop moving around!’

And then like a sound coming down a tunnel. ‘Don’t be scared of me, Harper.’ His voice. She could hear him, see him, and was the smoke him, too?

Then Corey spoke, behind her: ‘I’m telling everyone about this. You’re a freak.’

He yanked the door clumsily and hurried out. The door was slowly closing, and in a split second Harper grabbed the handle too and left the ghostly sight.

If Corey had told everyone, they were keeping quiet about it. No one was looking at her strangely. Maybe when Corey tried to put it into words, he also realised how weird it was.

For the rest of the day, Harper felt like she was in a bubble. She kept replaying the scene in the library. Flickers of the boy like moving light. As she’d left, he’d called out to her. He knew her name. From his collar and shoulders, which were all she could see, it looked like he was in a soldier’s uniform. Did he have something to do with that book on the floor? Gallipoli.

Mr Kumar put on a film for a Friday-afternoon treat. Cleo, sitting next to Harper, was drawing instead.

As Harper watched Cleo’s pencil, she got goosebumps. Cleo was drawing the face from the library. Not just his head and shoulders either: a tall soldier with long legs that didn’t match how young his face looked. He had dark hair, rounded eyes, high cheekbones, and an expression like he wasn’t sure if he was meant to smile. He looked like a boy in a man’s uniform: Cleo must have seen him too. But she seemed so calm as she shaded underneath the soldier’s feet.

Harper was shaking as she wrote a note.

You saw him?

Who?

That soldier! I saw him too!

You mean the photo?

What? Where?

In the library. In a frame on the wall. It’s always been there.

Has it???

He used to go to Riverlark, remember? William Park. You’re in Park House, lol!

So Cleo hadn’t seen a ghost’s face, just a photo. Harper had known that Park house was named after a soldier. But what had she really seen? And what was she supposed to do now? Go back in and check again? Pretend she’d never seen it? It, or rather, him.

‘What’s wrong?’ Cleo mouthed.

Harper shook her head and forced a smile.

After the final bell, Cleo handed the drawing to Harper.

‘I can’t take it,’ Harper said.

Cleo frowned. ‘Why? You said you liked it.’

‘I do. It’s brilliant.’

‘I want you to have it,’ Cleo said, solidly. There was no room for Harper to say no when she put it like that.

Back at home, Harper propped the sketch against her bedside lamp.

The night wakings began again.

This time she was kneeling beside her bed. Her heart was pounding. She looked for the sketch. It was lying flat on the bedside table with something on top of it.

The cadet badge.

Harper switched on the lamp.

Everything else in the room was normal. Hector was asleep on the end of her bed. One of the cats was curled up on the spinny chair. Across the hall, Lolly was snoring.

Harper couldn’t turn the light off. Lying down, nervously, she pulled the sheet over her head.